letters4mylove
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“iTrapped…” he murmured, voice soft, weighted with something he thought was love. This is his way of handing out an invitation of sex. Not the first time.
They tilted their head just enough to let the touch remain, their expression caught somewhere between invitation and distance.
[I refused your invitation for the first time—but it seems that you are persistent.]
His other hand hovered, then settled lightly at their waist, tentative but warm.
[I will let you through this time.]